


can’t live without your love (inside me now)

by pvmpkin



Category: GOT7, JJ Project, K-pop
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung | Jr., Explicit Sexual Content, I hope, M/M, Sensuality, Smut, Soft Im Jaebum | JB, Soft Park Jinyoung | Jr., references to a lot of sexual acts, slightly domestic?, slightly? It’s not super graphic tho, they love each other but also like to have sex I think is my point, what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:16:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pvmpkin/pseuds/pvmpkin
Summary: jinyoung always knew this would happen, at the back of his mind, in his heart, in his very being. slow and sweet, like slick honey dripping down, down, down.





	can’t live without your love (inside me now)

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy + forgive me if it isn’t good,,,
> 
> also title is from “crush” by cigarettes over sex. i totally recommend listening to it.

Loving Jaebum is easy.

 

It feels like second nature to him, something as easy as breathing. They fit, from Jaebum’s temper to his patience, his hands oddly soft where his are rough. Eyes meeting eyes. It’s easy, to just go on with whatever is going on between them. It doesn’t have to be explosive. They were never really like that, anyway. They weren’t firecrackers like their friends, lighting the room and bursting from energy. They were there, and they complimented each other more than what Jinyoung could have guessed. It doesn’t have to be rushed escapades, teeth clinking with desperation and lips smashing together, doesn’t have to be so fast and impulsive. Because loving Jaebum never felt like that, never felt rushed or impulsive. It was soft, it was slow. Like the gentle trickle of the shower dripping down his back until he feels a kiss on his neck and a dick pressed against his ass. It doesn’t have to be rushed. It doesn’t have to be loud. As long as Jinyoung can see him through the spray of the water as he opens his mouth and lets out the most beautiful of sounds when Jinyoung’s hands travel from his broad shoulders to the slick skin of his hip and even further from there, it really doesn’t have to be.

 

Jinyoung and Jaebum hadn’t talked about all this... whatever it may be that’s going on between them. Brought together by years of training and debuting and failing and debuting once again gave them a closeness that didn’t need words. All those nights. Eyes meeting eyes. Just that would be enough of a reassurance. Everything’s fine. If it isn’t, it’s going to be. If it won’t be, then they’d still be there, if nothing but for each other. It’s not exactly as if they planned it, to do this, to keep doing this. It’s just sometimes Jaebum will come to him, knocking on the door of his apartment, looking so good and vulnerable that Jinyoung’s heart clenches and he doesn’t think he even has a choice. Of course he lets Jaebum inside. What other option is there?

 

At first, Jinyoung had assumed it was all lust. Of course he would assume that. One day, out of nowhere, leader-nim—not Jaebum, because leader-nim is an entirely different front that he uses and that person isn’t Jaebum at all, doesn’t laugh or crack stupid jokes like he does—came to talk to Jinyoung. About something. He doesn’t remember what he had said back then. Something about the group’s concept or dynamics. All he remembers is the soft press of his lips on the corner of his mouth, hesitant arms that didn’t know where to place themselves. And Jinyoung pulled him inside, tugging on his hand. Doors closed. He pulled him down, he remembers, on the cream couch he bought last summer, his hips above Jaebum’s own. They stared at each other, like they always do, and they were sure. Whatever this was. Wherever it took them. Eyes meeting eyes. Jinyoung placed his hands on the elder’s chest and captured his lips, chapped but still wonderful, their bodies moving together to a melody they couldn’t hear. They were all alone and Jinyoung relished all the grunts and moans that filled the air. A house blessing, he thought suddenly, as Jaebum bit and sucked on his neck, hard enough to form bruises and he shuddered above the elder when his briefs were too sticky to be comfortable. They still kissed afterwards, as they laid down on the couch. It was a cramped space for two adult men to be laying down face to face but neither of them wanted to move. So they didn’t. Jinyoung thinks they spent the whole afternoon there, but he also thinks that his memory can’t be relied on. It could have been minutes. Hours. Years. He wouldn’t have known the difference. Everything was hazy, and it felt like Jaebum was everywhere, on his lips, on his thighs, inside his eyelids like a vision.

 

He’s heard about one-night stands with strangers being awkward when they see each other in the morning from Jackson, one afternoon, when he decided to visit his apartment out of the blue. He had told him, animatedly, as he always does, with his hands making wild gestures and his face expressive, about his last encounter with Jimin or Jihoon or someone with a J according to him. He had tried to get away first thing in the morning as to avoid waking them—Jackson didn’t really specify if they were a girl or a boy, and Jinyoung supposes it’s of no importance—but it didn’t work. Jinyoung nodded amusedly as he told him about the suffocating silence as they stared at each other, Jackson butt-naked and whatever more details Jackson had said back then. He did have a tendency of over sharing and Jinyoung had a tendency of zoning out so their friendship worked for the better. He sat on the cream couch, smiling ever so slightly, as he remembered the way Jaebum snapped his hips and the sweat on his face.

 

Jackson laughed—he probably made a joke without Jinyoung noticing—so he chuckled along with him. He didn’t tell him about his own encounter, how he woke up to the smell of freshly cooked eggs and reheated ramyeon at an ungodly hour in the morning, didn’t tell him about how thick fingers prodded inside him and how a dick stretched him wide as the sun rose and rays filtered through the window curtain, casting a golden glow on Jaebum and how much he looked like an angel and a devil in one body and how they fell asleep again, legs and fingers intertwined until noon when Jaebum woke up to go back to their dorm. It didn’t feel awkward at all. Felt slow, sweet. Like honey dripping all over him in the best way.

 

And back then, Jinyoung thought maybe that was it. He thought that was going to be the end of it. That’s what he told Jaebum but he knows, deep inside him, somewhere in his mind, in his heart, in his being. Jaebum would’ve come back. It’s one of those things that he just knows. Jinyoung is, by no means, a romantic but when Im Jaebum—not leader-nim this time, no—had come knocking on his door again, the pretence of talking about the future comeback or group dynamics gone out the window, he couldn’t help but smile fondly. Eyes meeting eyes. It really was no surprise, somewhere in his mind, in his heart, in his being, when Jaebum’s fingers slipped from his jaw to his plush mouth, eyes tracking every suckle, every lick, right then and there, and they were barely inside the apartment yet.

 

See, Im Jaebum likes to pretend that he’s tough, likes to pretend that he’s a bad boy, someone worth fighting guys, someone worth swooning girls. Because he is, sometimes. He gets all tough and territorial and angry that people have a hard time looking him in the eye. He does carry within himself that kind of power and that’s exactly why JYP himself chose Jaebum as the leader of the group. Leader-nim never gets tired, always strict, serious, prim, proper. It’s such an obvious shift from Im Jaebum that even Bambam and Yugyeom, however playful and teasing and oblivious they might be, knew when to shut their mouths and run along with their business, doing whatever it is that the maknaes do, when he slips into the role again.

 

Leader-nim never gets tired. But Im Jaebum sure does.

 

He gets tired of being all tough, of being bad, someone worth fighting guys and swooning girls. He gets tired from the burden of the responsibilities placed on his back on such an early age. He gets tired from the fans, from the press, even from the members themselves. He gets tired and he feels like his nerves are all fizzled up, all his bravado out of stock and all he wants is for a pair of arms to wrap around him. Sometimes—every time—he goes soft and of course, Jinyoung is there. Jinyoung helps, in all the best of ways, in all the ways he knows best. Times like that, Jinyoung would carry Jaebum—not leader-nim—inside his bed, soft close the door shut with a small click. He’d kiss him, soft and slow, bite his lips, caress his glorious cheekbones. Everything, every energy, every fibre of his being he would lay out for Jaebum. It‘s soft and sweet when he pulls away. Eyes meeting eyes. Jaebum would either lay down or sit up, but Jinyoung would have his mouth on him regardless, would make him come in the most drawn-out way that makes Jaebum feel like he’s floating on the sweetest of cotton candy, sticky and sugary. Jinyoung would come back from the bathroom later with a wet towel and slowly wipe Jaebum’s pliant body clean and chuckle fondly at the elder’s open vulnerability, would pepper kisses all over his face, his chest, and sometimes his cock when he’s feeling playful. Jaebum would always blush and whine, either pushing him away or pulling him back in for more.

 

Either way, they’d still end up in each other’s arms, facing each other, together like pieces of a puzzle. Either way one would wake up earlier than the other, content at staring at their sleeping form and when they would be both awake, they would both pretend that it’s normal to do that. They would cook whatever food they could salvage and eat together, just as the sun would come out from its hiding place, and talk about anything. Their schedules, the new drama that came out, the clothes that Jaebum keep borrowing that he never brings back. It’s just so easy, to fall into bed with Jaebum, to fall into this routine, to fall in love with him. It’s easy to fall for a sunlit, smiling Jaebum, when he’s being like himself. It’s slow, it’s sweet.

 

Jinyoung always keeps reading about a main character’s love story, in every book, how exciting it is, how riveting, everything’s turning upside down and he thinks about Im Jaebum and what if they were like that. What if Im Jaebum could completely sweep him off his feet like a bad boy does, what if he could drive motorcycles and Jinyoung the damsel, would be completely enraptured with the promise of adventure this newcomer seemed to bring? He imagines Im Jaebum in a leather jacket and a motorbike by his side, waiting for Jinyoung outside of church, waiting for Jinyoung to get on his knees again. He imagines Im Jaebum with bruised knuckles on top of him, Im Jaebum with spiked hair and piercings on his lip.

 

They always seemed to fall in love so hard, in such short amount of time. Jinyoung thinks of Im Jaebum, the real one, without the motorcycles and adventure, and how the years moulded them together in a way that not even love could. How they butted heads at first, over-eager in working for their dreams yet frustratingly stubborn in arguments they inevitably had. It hadn’t helped that they were teenagers, struggling with self-identity and whatever it is teenagers struggle with. They clashed, they fought, to the point where the company was willing to drop them and cancel the debut. Then they worked, harder, through the desperation and the differences. They had to, for their dream. They’d adapted to each other, over the years, the nuances so ingrained within them that it barely needed a thought.

 

Jinyoung thought about Im Jaebum and concluded that no, in another universe, if Im Jaebum was a bad boy and he was a damsel looking for love, it wouldn’t be found within each other. They would fight, they would never get along, they would be horrible. Because it took so much more than initial attraction for them to get along, so much more time for them from the thick fingers prodding at jean holes to slide further up and up and up.

 

Now they were at that point where up was considered normal and Jinyoung did expect something like this to happen, some sort of confrontation from one or all of the members. He just didn’t expect for it to happen so straightforwardly.

 

“Are you sleeping with Jaebum?” Mark asks, one day, fingers tight around Jinyoung’s wrist. They were away from the living room, away from the weekly movie night Jackson insisted they keep for tradition. He looks at him with a startling demand, like it’s something that’s been on his mind for weeks and he just wanted to make sure.

 

“None of your business.” Jinyoung replies, his other hand uncurling Mark’s grip on him. It’s not a yes but it’s not a no either, and Jinyoung thinks Mark is smart enough to know what that means.

 

“What are you two?” The eldest asks when his back is turned.

 

Jinyoung thinks of the nights Jaebum comes to his apartment, tired and frustrated, entirely vulnerable yet trusting Jinyoung to the point where he doesn’t cover it up anymore. He thinks of the clothes strewn around his previously neat and organised room. He thinks of the way the sun hits Jaebum when they wake up early to eat. He thinks of the way his face contorts into pleasure when he comes, thinks of the low groan rumbling in his chest that makes his knees weak or the high pitched, desperate whine that makes Jinyoung’s dick twitch. He thinks of Jaebum’s oily skin when he wakes up in the morning, of the two moles just underneath his eyebrows like a little constellation. He thinks of the extra toothbrush in his bathroom, of the sight of Jaebum’s red skin after he scrubbed him with a loofah when he was too tired to even take a bath. He thinks of the times that they lay together, on the same bed, whispering stories and thoughts and dreams to one another despite having the apartment all to himself. He thinks of them, eight years younger, doing the same thing, huddled together despite having separate beds. Old habits die hard, he guesses. He thinks of Jaebum’s eyes, of his mind, of his heart, of his being.

 

“None of your business.” Jinyoung turns around to tell him and walks out the kitchen Mark dragged him to, back to the living room where he can hear Youngjae’s laugh and Jackson’s loud cackle. His answer doesn’t say anything, but Jinyoung thinks Mark has enough knowledge to figure it out.

 

Jinyoung tells Jaebum of this, except the last question Mark asked him, a week after it happened. When morning had come and Jaebum is once again in one of his ratty shirts and loose sweatpants, he’s still glowing, the most beautiful boy Jinyoung’s ever seen.

 

“Do you care that I told Mark?” He asks after he swallows a spoonful of cereal. He can see Jaebum follow the movement and his eyes crinkle pleasantly.

 

“Not really. Of course I care... It just doesn’t matter as much, I guess.”

 

Jinyoung hums. “You know, Mark asked me another thing.” He slurps on his cereal and watches Jaebum’s reaction.

 

His brows raise and he asks. “Oh? Really? What is it?”

 

“He asked me what are we.” It was Jaebum’s turn to hum, eyes travelling all over the room, seemingly taking in everything for the first time, until they land on Jinyoung. There’s no tension, strangely. No baited breath, no nervous fiddling of fingers. It’s just them, staring at each other. They already know, he supposes.

 

Jaebum smiles, slightly, amusedly, and places his hand on the counter facing up. Jinyoung mirrors him, still sleepy, still smiling and puts his hand on top of Jaebum’s, facing down. He memorises the image and stashes it somewhere deep in his mind, in his heart, in his being. He looks up. Eyes meeting eyes. That’s enough. It’s always been enough.

 

There’s no pretence, no bravado, nothing. Just two souls of the same frequency, same state. Still soft, still slow. They fit, two bodies sliding against each other, two mouths tasting each other, two hands intertwined. It’s the easiest thing he’s ever done in his life and Jinyoung thinks it’s easier to stop breathing than to stop loving Jaebum.

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading!! comment ur thoughts or constructive criticism pls bc I need em 
> 
> I made a twt acc!! come hmu and talk to me or smthng!! :D [@kjmlovesite](https://twitter.com/kjmlovesite?s=09)


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